The Water Element

 There is a lot of Physics in it; a lot of fear; a fight for survival. There is depth and there is height.

Among all these, the most imperative yet the most ignored element in the depth of the oceans is the breath.

In an era of 'yogis' - one calling oneself or being called by others as one - I haven't left myself far behind in the race to the most challenging asana or to the most intricate breathing pattern.

Yet, when I was underwater the first thing I forgot is to breathe, the most sophisticated buoyancy device and the oxygen tank notwithstanding. All the sessions on land with the coach, about breathing in for 4 and out for 10 counts, got wiped out in a single wave, when I found myself a few metres down. All this despite knowing the art and science of free-style swimming.

Each dive into the water would start with a fight - the opponent being the mighty ocean! Needless to say, the ocean always won and by the time I gathered myself I would have consumed more than my share of Oxygen from the tank. The dives that could have been for 50 minutes were cut down to 40 or even 30. I wrestled with the ocean reaching a tally of 9 dives and a certification to go with that, but my fight with the water continued. I was trying to get all the techniques right, but the ocean just kept gobbling it all up. 

It is in my next 12 dives that the transformation happened.

"My dear Chetan, in your struggle with water you are missing the beauty of the ocean. I want you to forget about techniques and enjoy the beauty of the garden under water", my coach said. 

I had to try this out... The next dive, after the plunge I looked down at the bed that was faintly visible below and the magic started happening. The corals, the colourful fish that were always there started becoming apparent to me. For the first time, I had a 'walk' in the garden. From that dive on, it was indeed a a visit to a different garden with different lives in blossom each time. The fairy's tail doesn't end here, though.

My comfort in going beyond comfort started only at this point. I was exposed to dive sites that were more challenging with the intensity of currents. I became comfortable with the stillness at one site and the hustle at the other. The life under the sea seemed to be teaching me a lesson or two. The fish were moving in the same tranquility whether the sea was quiet or there was the hustle of currents. As I saw them, the quiet energy within them, despite the agitation in the medium out, seemed to connect with me. 

Speaking about connections and energies, I cannot forget something profound my coach(there are two of them) said. We all start our lives in a medium of water when in the womb. We are so much at peace there. Yet when we get into water after resuming life on land, our first instinct is of survival. Of course, survival is important. But it is only after you go beyond this instinct of survival is when you connect with your roots. It is then you find peace within and without. 

It is then that you are comfortable exploring more zones of discomfort - which is what life throws at you every now and then.

At the time of writing, I have reached 21 dives and it is, but, a drop in the ocean. There are many more zones of comfort to move out of, many more learnings as I resume the journey through this Element.

Because, you are my daddy!

Ok,I have to post this before it gets lost in the multitudes of sweet memories that get forgotten in life!
One of my previous blogs has my daughter as a few month old child trying to get to sleep despite my lullaby.
Fast Forward to present time: she is 3 and a half years old and negotiating on the little things that are big on the little one.
The latest one beat me all ends up on the negotiation table - the bed, rather.
A background to this anecdote is that Aahana gets dropped to her play-home by her care-taker on a scooter and she prefers the bike which I use!
One night I was lying down and just dozing off into a dream of excel sheets, she jumps on to my stomach, breaking all the formulae into #REF! and other ghastly error messages the excel sheet throws.
And the negotiation began. The entire conversation was with her sitting on my distending tummy. An angrezi version of it is here.
Aahana: Daddy, Daddy[she bends down to my ears and whispers..]tomorrow will you drop me to school on the bike?
Me: I have to leave for office early[by 7:45] and your school starts late[by 9:30]
..She still doesn't get the "time" on the clock except the concept of Late and Early....
Aahana: Tomorrow you drop me to school and then go to office...
Me: Anna[the caretaker] will drop you..Or I'll get Thatha(her fav grandpa) to drop you.
Aahana: No, tomorrow, You drop me on your bike to school.....Last, OK? 5 millees [her way of saying "Please, only once? 5 minutes only".]
Me:[Melting on the bed, Still tried my last straw] Why should I drop you?
Aahana: Because, you are my Daddy!

End of negotiation. Next day, I called office that I will be running late, dropped Aahana to school and then proceeded to office. I couldn't ask for a better reason!

My Name is...Never mind!

[This post has been long overdue! Two nights back I was surfing through the Channels and landed on the one that was showing SRK trying real hard to show how he can get Autistic! I will reserve my comments on that performance for another post, but first it's I, me and myself. So read on.]

"It is a bit Big", a bird sitting next to me in office chirped. I chuckled. She was commenting on my name(before you run your imaginations wild). I told her how a friend of mine in his inimitable sarcasm had exclaimed-"I never knew you had such a magnificent name! You could write a Novel, make a movie out of it." I had chuckled then, too.
It all started way back in 1976, when I was, apparently to the joy of my paternal and maternal family, born. Now both the families suggested names- Paternal side suggested Srinivas and Maternal side suggested Chetan and in a magnanimous moment when the decision had to be taken, someone(I really dont know who) decided to appease both the sides! And thus I was christened Srinivas Chetan. Now,along with these two names came the initials H and K(H is the village we hail from, Hebbar. K is my father's name, Keshavamurthy, the part I am proud of in the entire protraction.
My parents kept it simple calling me chethi mostly and chetan occasionally (the latter with a soprano, which usually meant I was about to be spanked).
At school, my friends called me Chetan. Teachers were having a tough time choosing from Chetan to Srini to Srinivas. In the professional world, the crisis continued- but it stabilised between chetan, srini or a very rare 'chet'. This went on and I thought I was settling down- until recently- when I joined this organisation which demanded I give my name "as it is in the passport".
And so I had to give my fully expanded name- "Srinivas Chetan Hebbar Keshavamurthy", which now has become my display name on all my official emails and chat.
The new set of colleagues keep asking me -"What do I call you?" Considering the wide range I have to offer, I just narrow it down to "Srini or Chetan- you can pick". I am sure I have left an entire office confused. But then, Srinivas Chetan is my name, and its all the same!
Birds keep chirping, and I keep chuckling, wondering "Whoever said What's in a name?"
God, Stop this Game.
Addendum: I need to mention the shortest way anyone has addressed me- "C". Thats from my butter-half.

The lullaby, the frown and the silence

I am sure God was not in his elements when he was working on my vocal talents. It is a well-known fact that singing is not the most enjoyable of experiences that I can provide my audience, if I manage to gather any. I had, believe me, managed a prize or two during my school-days, but that was largely due to my mother's vigilant selection of songs that were simple enough for me to stay in the chord that I started with and end the song with tolerable damage to the original. But, then the fact is that my singing talent is at best, a croak and at worst, a bray. And so, I harmonised my tunelessness in tune with my life and moved on.
I eventually got married- I didnt have to sing to impress my wife-to-be, you know. And then the children. I had almost forgotten how shocking my singing can be until recently and instinctively, I tried a lullaby on my 1 year old daughter.
It was one of those nights around 10PM and both my wife and I having had a long day, were preparing to retire- but for the tantrums thrown by our daughter. In one moment of indiscretion I decided to take over the responsibility of "putting her to sleep". I tried a few tried-and-tested tricks in the bag- carrying her and resting her head on my shoulders, putting her on the lap and rocking her on the lap- but her screams and cries continued. That's when my instinct took over. I started singing what I thought was a lullaby. And then miraculously, there was a sudden silence. My daughter stopped crying and started staring at me, intently and there was a frown on her innocent face which- if I'm not mistaken, was a mixture of anger, shock, stunned amazement and later moved into deep sympathy. She said it all in that fleeting 3-4 seconds.
It could be any or all of the below thoughts: An angry "Ok..Ok.. If you care to make up that truck-load of crap, I will sleep. Now stop singing for Gossake". OR a regretful "I should have listened to mommy and gone to sleep." OR a panicky "Help..help..my dad is a freak" OR an ingenious "The only way I can keep him quiet is to go to sleep. Let me just close my eyes.."
And in the next 2 minutes she was fast asleep.
But before that lull after my storm, there was a strong statement without utterance of a single word.